


A Little Brighter

by domesticadventures



Series: hilariously late christmas prompts [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9977336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticadventures/pseuds/domesticadventures
Summary: Dean found the dusty old decorations back in September and had been fantasizing about Christmas ever since.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for [aliashadowblade](http://aliashadowblade.tumblr.com/) <3
> 
> prompt: destiel + cuteness

Dean found the dusty old decorations back in September and had been fantasizing about Christmas ever since.

He had a whole grand plan and everything. He was going to get everyone gifts and stash them away in his closet. He was going to wait until everyone went to sleep on Christmas Eve and sneakily pull the boxes out of storage. He was going set everything up and put the presents under the tree and wait impatiently for everyone to wake up. It was going to be a surprise. It was going to be awesome.

What actually happens is that he gets caught up in one hunt after another, and in the process, he completely forgets to pick up a single present. On top of that, their latest job runs long and has them returning to the bunker just after midnight on Christmas Day.

Sam and Mary head off to bed, but Dean finds that even as exhausted as he is, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He lies in bed for a long time, staring at his ceiling, until he finally makes a decision. He sets his alarm for the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m. and texts Cas, _Hey listen I know you’re probably busy but it’s Christmas and it’d be cool if you could make it._ It’s only then that he’s able to roll over and go to sleep.

Dean groans when his alarm goes off, but after reading the text waiting for him once he blinks the sleep out of his eyes -- _I’m not too busy for Christmas._ \-- he manages to drag himself out of bed.

What Dean lacks in sleep he makes up for with months of pent-up excitement and a fresh pot of coffee. He drags the boxes out of storage and peels them open. He assembles the fake tree and fusses with the limbs until it looks less squished and sad and more like it’s happy to have been liberated from the box it’d sat in for the past few decades. He untangles the garland and runs it around the banister leading down the stairs from the door. He strings lights across every room they’ll reach, one big long chain of them around the tree and the library and the war room and up around the banister. He frees the fragile ornaments from the yellowing paper they were wrapped in and carefully hangs them up one by one. He polishes up the brass star and places it on top of the tree with a final flourish.

Tired but pleased, Dean goes to plug in the lights.

And nothing happens.

It’s stupid, but in that moment, Dean despairs. He knows, on some level, that he’s being dramatic, but it honest to God feels like he ruined Christmas.

He just wanted to do this one thing, have this one surprise, maybe have it feel like they were getting something simple and normal for the first time in their lives, and he didn’t think to check the lights first. He completely forgot that with these old sets, sometimes one bulb could go out and the whole string would stop working. None of them are coming on at all, though, so it’s probably something other than that. Maybe they’re just too old -- who the hell knows. The point is, he’s not going to have time to fix it now, not before Sam and Mary wake up and Cas arrives, if he’s even actually coming.

Dean sits at the bottom of the stairs with his head in his hands and imagines himself taking all the decorations down, packing them back up into the boxes and shoving them into a forgotten corner of the bunker. He imagines himself sitting around the table with his family for breakfast pretending like none of this happened, like he didn’t try and fail.

He’s still working up the energy to get up and start putting everything away when he hears the door swing open. Familiar footsteps make their way down the stairs, and next thing Dean knows, Cas says, “Dean? Are you all right?”

Dean sighs to himself, plasters on a smile, and stands up to face Cas as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, Cas,” he says. “Yeah, just, uh. The lights don’t work,” he explains, gesturing at the banister halfheartedly. He feels stupid, now, getting so upset over the damn lights. “Kind of a bummer.”

Cas spends a few long seconds looking at Dean in that appraising way he has, and then he reaches over and places his hand on the decorations Dean so carefully put up. He touches them gently, like he doesn’t want to mess them up. Like he actually gives a shit.

“Hm,” Cas says, and the lights flicker to life.

They stay that way even when Cas pulls his hand back, casting a soft, cheerful glow across every part of the bunker Dean can see. When he turns back to Cas, he’s cast in that same glow, smiling down at Dean from one step up.

“Oh,” Dean says. He clears his throat. “Thanks.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas says, and keeps smiling at him.

There’s a feeling building in Dean’s chest that’s a mix of embarrassment and gratitude and what he’s starting to suspect is what folks refer to as _Christmas cheer._ Cas has just given him a gift -- probably, Dean suspects, without even realizing it. Cas is always casually doing things that totally floor Dean, and all he can think is that he hasn’t gotten Cas anything in return. He doesn’t even know what Cas would want.

Except.

Cas is looking at Dean in this fond, hesitant, hopeful way that’s achingly familiar.

Maybe he knows what Cas wants, after all, but he’s just been too afraid to give it to him.

Dean laughs weakly. “Don’t suppose you could magic up some mistletoe, huh?”

Cas tilts his head to the side, frowning. “Why would I do--”

Dean doesn’t have any mistletoe for a convenient excuse. He just has a decade of history with Cas, is all, and that feeling in his chest he always gets when Cas looks at him like that, and the look on Cas’ face like he doesn’t want anything more for Christmas than to be here, stopping Dean from having some kind of meltdown over the Christmas lights.

So Dean steps up so he’s crowded against Cas on the stairs, takes Cas’ face in his hands, and kisses him.

Cas makes a noise of surprise, steadying himself with a hand on the banister, and then he kisses Dean back.

Across the bunker, all of the lights burn a little brighter.


End file.
